


Christmas Traditions

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [24]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Incest, M/M, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 24. Kurt/Burt<br/>Prompt: Burt wakes up from a sex dream to find that the dream is true, someone is sucking his cock. And that someone is Kurt. Sleepy confused Burt tries to make Kurt stop but Kurt is having none of it.<br/>Bonus points if Kurt handcuffed Burt to the headboard. No non-con/dub-con please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Traditions

Kurt Hummel loved Christmas mornings. When he had been young and his mother had still been alive everything had seemed so exciting and magical; laughter and giddy exhilaration overtaking the entire Hummel household from the moment little Kurt would toddle his way into his parents room and wake them up by bouncing between the two grown-ups on the bed and crying out 'that it was finally Christmas!' in his high-pitched, joyful voice.

And while things had definitely changed since then (for one he didn't jump on bed's anymore in such childish manner, nor was his mother present when he'd go to wake his father up nowadays), it hadn't necessarily all been for the worse. Some things about Christmas mornings over the last few years were certainly things he would always remember fondly for the rest of his life.

Like the fact that instead of rushing down to open his presents like he did when he was younger Kurt could instead take his time and sit down with a warm mug of cocoa as he waited for his father to join him. He would always remember those quiet and peaceful moments when he'd watch out the windows and stare at the snow falling softly outside, occasionally taking a small sip of his chocolate and feeling the warmth spread through him.

Or how the first thing his father would do when he'd eventually come downstairs was to immediately head straight for Kurt and pull him into a enormous hug, engulfing him with his solid and warm build, making them both relax into each other before sitting down pressed against one another, side by side and leisurely opening their presents. Unlike when Kurt had been younger and Burt would only ruffle his hair before sitting in his chair with Elisabeth on the armrest whilst Kurt would sit beneath the tree alone, tearing the paper apart on all of his presents in his hurry to open them.

However, there was one thing he would remember with even more clarity than either of those things. There was one thing about Christmas mornings nowadays that would forever be burned into his mind, and that was the way he would wake his father up.

For the last couple of years Kurt had taken an... well, simply put it was an unusual way of waking his father up. While most teenagers would still act like children and jump on their parents beds to rouse them this particular morning, Kurt had found a more... satisfying way of doing so.

Two years ago to the day Kurt had woken up sweating and panting, his loose pajama pants feeling oddly constricting and exhilarating images swimming past his eyes in quick succession. All of them involving one certain person besides himself; the two of them in one incriminating position after the other. Kurt had immediately rushed out of his room in the basement and hurriedly (or as quickly as he possibly could with such an uncomfortable situation in his pajama pants) rushed up the two floors to his father's bedroom, where he'd at once knelt between his father's legs and proceeded to awkwardly lick up his father's surprisingly monstrous dick. And though Burt had been initially against it when waking up Kurt had quickly managed to convince his father to let him continue, just by lapping gently at the head of his father's cock.

That had been the start of Kurt's all time favorite tradition.

Now, two years later, Kurt was silently making his way up to his father's bedroom, knowing from experience that he didn't want his father waking up before he was ready – like he'd accidentally done last year, when he'd then had to spend almost half an hour repeatedly needing to assure his father that he actually wanted to do this before finally getting to his prize. In his heart he knew the only thing Burt wanted to be certain about was that Kurt was sure about it, and that he wouldn't regret it afterwards – but it was annoying enough when he wouldn't believe Kurt the first time he told his father that he was one-hundred-and-ten percent sure about this, nor the fifth or twentieth time he told his father so. Honestly, he knew Burt loved this just as much as he himself had the first time. The continuous glances his father had thrown his way over the course of the first year after his initial blowjob had been enough proof of that.

No, that was not gonna happen this year. This year Kurt was prepared. This year he wasn't going to spend even the slightest minute arguing with his father about this. This year, everything was gonna be perfect.

Sure, it had been embarrassing to say the least when he'd asked Santana to help him find the handcuffs, but the endless teasing would be worth it when Burt wouldn't be able to do anything when he'd find him between his thighs. Just the thought made Kurt shudder where he was soundlessly trying to open the door to his father's bedroom.

Tiptoeing his way inside Kurt glanced at his father across the room, before carefully closing the door behind him. Swinging the padded black handcuffs lightly back-and-forth on his finger as he sneaked towards the bed Kurt watched entranced at the steady rise and fall of his father's chest, knowing just what was hidden underneath that cover.

Kurt knew that there would only be one difficult thing about what he was about to do, and that was managing to cuff his father to the bed without the old man waking up before Kurt actually wanted him to. That was why Kurt was so incredibly cautious about the whole thing; slowly, oh so slowly removing the cover from his father's body before trying to carefully wrestle his father's heavy arms over his head with trembling hands, anxious to finally get around to the main event.

When at last the final soft click rang through the otherwise silent room Kurt heaved a deep sigh of relief, knowing the hardest part was over and that he could finally get around to his favorite part of the morning.

Climbing onto the bed after removing his father's boxer's (his own clothes thrown hazardously across the room, for once _not caring in the least_ about where they landed) Kurt let his hands wander mindlessly over his father's thighs, eyes zeroed in on the huge prize in the middle. Geez, he was even bigger than Kurt had remembered!

His mouth was absolutely flooded with saliva as he bent down to place a soft little kiss to his father's thigh, knowing he needed to calm himself down before doing anything stupid like trying to take the entire length of his father into his throat. That could never end any other way than badly. So instead he stuck to kissing and licking and nuzzling his father's thighs as he felt his excitement fade slowly, but never entirely.

Above him he could hear the faintest of noises coming from his father when he began sucking at the crease between thigh and groin trying to leave his mark, and he was amazed at the effect he had on the grown man, especially so when he could just feel against his cheek that Burt was getting harder by the second. Soothing his tongue over the reddened flesh, not wanting his father to wake up just yet, Kurt moved on to nestle against his father's shaft. He'd missed the musky smell of it; the smell of wood, of sweat, of grease, of something purely _Burt_.

Pressing a wet kiss against the base of the cock before him Kurt let his tongue run in short quick laps over the solid flesh before him. Mmm, the taste was something he had missed too; this salty and somewhat bitter flavor that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind all year. That he'd _missed_ all year.

Gripping the base of his father's dick Kurt pressed his tongue even more firmly against the length, letting it caress every little inch of it before circling the crown and dipping gently into the little slit, tasting the small bead of precome resting there. He had to moan quietly in the back of his throat at the taste; Gaga how he'd missed this!

Opening his mouth up further he sunk his lips past the very tip of his father's head, suckling messily and making spit leak from the corners of his mouth down his chin and all over his father's dick. It was all for the better though, because when he took even more of the shaft inside it slid easily, the hard and wet meat not catching in the least on his slick lips.

Kurt felt so wonderfully full with his lips stretched so wide around the cock before him, his hot and moist mouth absolutely flooded with his father's fat length. It had been such a long year since the last time he'd felt so full, so _complete_ , and the young countertenor had to close his eyes tightly shut at how overwhelming it all really was. He'd missed this; had missed having something stretching his mouth so badly those past twelve months, had missed having his _father_ filling him up so greatly.

Placing his palms down flat against his father's strong thighs Kurt began to ever so leisurely bob his head up and down the thick cock, his nails raking down the soft flesh he held whenever he got too exhilarated and tried to take too much. His eyes had begun to tear up horribly when he'd gagged for the third time, but Kurt didn't care in the least about that, only cursed his own gag-reflex for existing in the first place and tried to take those few more inches down his throat again.

Above and below him he could feel his father starting to rouse from his dreams; dreams that apparently had been very pleasing during the past minutes, if the steady flow of moans and grunts had been anything to go by. Kurt grinned at the thought, knowing very well that it was him who had made his father's dreams so raunchy, that it was him treating Burt's dick like a freaking lollipop that had most probably turned rather innocent dreams into things akin to porn movies.

He wondered briefly what those dreams had been about. If they were about his mother. If they were about _him_. In the end he pushed the thoughts away, knowing better than to dwell on things he would never get the answer to. Instead focused back on feeling his father's muscles spasm under his touch, of feeling the big member in his throat twitch as he heard his father gasp breathily.

“K-Kurt?” he heard his father ask, before the rattling of the handcuffs reached his ears. Kurt didn't took the time to answer his father properly, only grinned around the length filling him as he looked up at the bound man gazing blearily back at him. Digging his fingers in lightly into the flesh beneath them Kurt sunk back down his father dick, all the while keeping their eyes firmly locked.

He didn't miss the obvious shiver running down his father's spine, just like he didn't miss the small hitch in his father's breath or the strain of his muscles as he tried to move.  
“Kurt?” his father asked again, closing his eyes. Kurt pouted, or at least tried to, disappointed at losing sight of those lust-filled and darkened eyes that had been so utterly hazy with pleasure that Kurt had placed there. “Kurt, what are you doing?”

Kurt had to snort at that, and pulled himself off the thick length filling him. “I'm parachuting,” he answered dryly, licking a broad stripe up the side of his father's flesh, “what do you think I'm doing?”

Had his father been properly awake Kurt knew he would have heard a response of something along the lines of 'don't get smart with me, boy' or 'cut the sarcasm, squirt'; but then again, had his father been properly awake Kurt probably wouldn't have been able to worship the dick before him like he was doing. No, instead what came out of his father's mouth was a drawn out moan, fallowed by a litany of stuttered and broken words as his father tried to convince him that he didn't have to do this – as if it wasn't Kurt that had initiated the whole thing in the first place – assuring him that Burt wouldn't get mad and that Kurt by no means had to finish whatever he was doing.

After hearing his father's muttered plea for many long moments Kurt finally gripped the base of the length he'd been caressing so reverently seconds earlier and caught his father's eyes harshly, silencing him without a word.

“Dad, I want this. Just like I wanted it last year and the year before. Now you hush, because I want to gag on that beautiful cock of yours and I don't want to hear another word out of you that isn't a moan or a wail. Okay? Okay.” And without hesitating Kurt was back to swallowing that shaft down his throat just like he'd promised he would, satisfied when the only thing passing his father's lips were the low grunts he'd longed to hear for the past year.

Mindful to lap over the thick vein running up the underside of his father's cock with his tongue every time he drew his head back Kurt began to play with the other parts of his father's body that he could reach. He scratched lightly over the coarse hairs on his father's belly, Kurt ghosted his fingertips over the little white scar on his father's side from removing his appendix, and he jovially drew patters over the many birthmarks scattered over his father's right hip. When he'd had his fill – all the while sucking happily at the flesh in his mouth – Kurt took his father's heavy balls in his hands, caressing them and softly kneading them in his warm palm.

Above him his father had resorted to biting his lip; unable to break free of his bonds Burt had resigned to Kurt's ministrations, agreeing to simply riding out whatever Kurt wanted to give him. Kurt could still hear the little noises passing those red-bitten lips though, and he delighted in them, letting them travel through his body and aligning sparks all over.

It wasn't until that precise moment that Kurt realized how achingly hard he was himself; it hadn't really mattered earlier when his excitement of finally having his mouth filled again had overruled everything else, when his father's pleasurable sighs had made his mind buzz so pleasantly. Now though, now Kurt was taking notice of how his own arousal was pressing against the bedding beneath him, he was finally noticing how much it _hurt_. How much he needed to _come_ already.

And just like that Kurt was back into his frenzy. Though this time it wasn't the sheer frenzy of having his father's dick back in him after going so long without, no, this time it was a frenzy for having them both coming as quick as possible. Because realizing that his own impending orgasm was so close Kurt began aching for having his father's to hit as soon as possible, hunger for that come to fill his mouth so desperate that Kurt was willing to do anything to make that happen.

Rutting fervently into the bedding beneath him Kurt swallowed more and more of that fat dick down his throat, humming and sucking and doing everything in his might to make his father _just come already_.

Kurt played every dirty trick he knew, just willing his father to come, allowing Kurt to finally get a taste of that glorious cum. He sucked the dick harder than before, he took it in deeper, he sped up his bobbing – sometimes holding himself down when he got his father in as deep as he could without choking, swallowing madly around that length then and feeling his throat trapping that meat for long moments at a time, before releasing it once more to catch his breath.

In the end it wasn't long before he could hear his father stuttering out a warning, a broken off 'Kurt' amidst several deep grunts. So, sucking only that thick bulb of a head into his mouth Kurt stroked the rest of his father's shaft quickly with his hand, just waiting for Burt to finally come and coat his mouth in thick, white stripes.

And come Burt did; straining the cuffs holding him down the mechanic groaned out as he painted the walls all around Kurt's mouth an outstanding pearly white, the taste and feel of it making Kurt rut desperately and fervently into the sheets below him as he came as well. Letting the thick shaft fall from his mouth Kurt moaned loudly as he saw sparks shoot before his eyes, beads of cum running down his chin from the corners of his lips as he did before falling back down at his father's groin and joining the already existing mess there.

Kurt swallowed the load in his mouth the moment he calmed down enough to control his muscles again; very much so enjoying the salty flavor running down his throat as he did before nuzzling back down to his father's shrinking length and devouring any stray droplet coating his father.

Sufficiently clean Kurt crawled over his father, unlocked the restraints around his obviously sore but fine wrists before laying down splayed over his father's wide chest. There he curled up to finally catch his breath properly, allowing the feel of his father's steady breathing to calm and soothe him and his suddenly limp body.

“You okay there, buddy?” Burt asked him eventually, when Kurt had just laid there for a long while.

“I'm fine dad,” Kurt responded, rolling his eyes fondly. He was just enjoying to be cuddled up so close to his father. Even though they were far from distant in their every day life it was nice to feel so close to his father this time of year, and just like Burt would make his utmost the entire day to grab every opportunity to hug Kurt close to him so he wouldn't feel the absence of his mother so strongly, Kurt took this chance to cuddle up to his father and just be.

“You sure? You know you can tell me if anything's going on.”

“I'm sure daddy.”

And Kurt was, he really was.

Later he would insist that his father take a long and deserved shower, and he would do the same. They'd get dressed in fresh pajamas and then they'd reunite in the living room like always to open their gifts.

But for now? For now Kurt was very much content to feel his father's heartbeat under his cheek as he closed his eyes and just took the moment in – savoring it and imprinting it in his memory.


End file.
